


take what you love

by mardia



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: F/M, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 08:55:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8006770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mardia/pseuds/mardia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Please," Gen said, shifting restlessly on the bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take what you love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [plalligator](https://archiveofourown.org/users/plalligator/gifts).



> Originally posted on imzy for the prompt "queen's thief and pegging". Title comes from the Janelle Monae song "Givin' Em What They Love".

"Please," Gen said, shifting restlessly on the bed.

Irene flicked her gaze up from where she was stretching her husband open with two slick fingers to watch his face. It took her only a moment to confirm what she suspected, and Irene turned her attention back to the task.

"Not yet," Irene said calmly, even as her face flushed at the obscene sight of Gen spreading his legs wider for her, her fingers slipping in and out, her thumb pressing against the slick rim--

"Not yet?" Gen huffed out, pressing back against her hand, demanding, _wanton_. But not desperate. Not yet.

"Not until you mean it," Irene said, proud of how her voice didn't tremble. Someday Gen would realize how the sight of him like this undid her, broke her down until she was almost a blushing, unsure, fumbling girl--almost, but not quite.

Gen groaned, dramatically flinging his arm over his face--his left arm. "Irene, would you please--"

Irene leaned in over him, swooping in like a hawk over its prey, pushing Gen's arm to the side to capture his mouth in a sharp kiss, nipping at his soft lower lip. "Mean it," she breathed out, and after a moment where she lingered there, his breath warm on her lips, his bare skin brushing against hers--Gen groaned once more, but there was nothing showily dramatic in it this time. Pleased, Irene pulled away, and continued with her work, delighting in how hot and tight he was around her fingers.

Soon, she saw what she was looking for, what she wanted--Gen growing quieter, moving against her fingers, his face still and intent, eyes glittering. 

At last he groaned again, the sound caught behind his teeth, and Irene knew she had him. Smiling down at him, she finally, finally grabbed at the phallus lying on the sheets next to them, making a show of oiling it, her slick hand sliding up and down the shaft until Gen said, his voice nearly a snarl, “ _Irene_ \--”

“Yes?”

Gen glared at her, his teeth set, before deliberately pulling up one leg so it was bent at the knee, exposing himself. Irene’s mouth went dry at the obscene sight, Gen’s cock thick and heavy against his stomach--

“Please,” Gen said once more, tossing the word out as if it was a challenge. Which, of course, it was. 

Irene felt her lips curving upwards into a smile. “Of course, my king,” she said, sweet as honey, and slowly, slowly slid the phallus into him, inch by inch, watching avidly as it stretched her husband open, as his thighs trembled, muscles twitching as she pushed it in deeper. 

“Yes,” Gen hissed out. “Like that--ah, harder--”

“I think,” Irene said thoughtfully, “--that I will go at my own speed.”

Gen actually lifted his head from the pillow to glare, Irene chose that exact moment to thrust the phallus into him, judging the angle carefully, and Gen choked on his words, falling back onto the bed with a groan. “Yes?” Irene asked. 

Gen lifted a hand. “Anything you wish, my queen,” he said, and sounded as if he meant it. 

“Thank you,” Irene said, and went back to her task, which in this moment was to fuck her husband until he was literally begging for it. 

And at last, Irene finally had what she wanted, she had Gen to the point where he was almost wordless, moving into each of her thrusts until they found a glorious, desperate rhythm, his hand clutching at the sheet, face caught in a grimace of desperate desire as he gasped out, “Ah, ah--”

Irene felt nearly as desperate herself, her skin flushed, hair sticking to her face and back, wrist aching, but she wouldn’t relent, not until--

“Damn you,” Gen said through gritted teeth, his face flushed, hair in his eyes. “Damn you, Irene, _please_ \--”

“Yes,” Irene breathed out, triumphant, and wrapped her free hand around his cock, thumb rubbing at the slit. She timed it well, shoving the phallus in just so as she stroked--and it was enough, it was enough for Gen to come apart in her hands, shaking as he spilled over Irene’s fist. 

His eyes were closed as he came, face beautiful and trusting and open--and in that moment, he belonged to Irene utterly, every inch of him was hers and hers alone. Irene waited him out, gently sliding the phallus out of him and putting it aside--and then she started to touch herself, shivering at how wet she was already, how _eager_ \--

Gen opened his eyes, and looked at her with that dark gaze, sighing as he reached out for her. “Irene,” he said once more, his face still dazed from pleasure, and Irene smiled in triumph, and gave herself up to his touch.


End file.
